


If It Takes Boarding the Subway For Us To Meet...

by mightymorphingayagenda



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: AU, F/M, Hamilton - Freeform, Scottish!Nesta, i had food poisoning and wrote this to cheer me up, short and shit, written in 30 minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 03:15:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11199330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightymorphingayagenda/pseuds/mightymorphingayagenda
Summary: The hot stranger on the subway is listening to Hamilton and Nesta just can't resist...





	If It Takes Boarding the Subway For Us To Meet...

Though Nesta would never admit it, she missed Scotland like a bitch.

Missed the smell of mud and fresh water, missed the winds that felt like swallowing Listerine and burned in your lungs with a sharp, cleansing ache. Nesta missed numb fingers and soaked socks, she missed not having to compartmentalise her wardrobe into clothing appropriate for each individual season! And what the hell was she meant to do with clothes she could wear in summer _and_ winter?

She sulked tiredly, a pale hand griping the no doubt filthy pole that kept her standing as the carriage shuddered to a stop. The subway, despite proving itself as vital to Nesta’s functioning in New York, was decidedly more awful than…anything.

Half the carriage emptied out onto the platform, a carnage of briefcases, ironic T’s and leather jackets. One guy nudged past her wearing a red ‘MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN’ cap and Nesta almost slapped the thing off his fucking head. Instead she fixed him an electric glare and smiled somewhat darkly at the shiver that wrecked his posture.

Of everything she missed about home, its lack of spray-tanned Nazi’s in power was by far the most appealing.

Seven or so people boarded the carriage but one in particular caught Nesta’s attention. Tall, dark and handsome didn’t even begin to cover it.

He looked semi-casual in a pair of dark washed jeans and a white shirt that hugged his toned arms and abdomen perfectly. A light stubble cast a kind of grimy shadow across his square jaw and his cheek bones sliced sharply across his tanned face. Rough, hewn features carved like marble and rendered more attractive by wearing over time.

But the thing Nesta was really into, was that stupid man-bun.

No but really, she was really, _very_ into it.

The stranger ultimately reminded her of that guy who was playing Superman at the moment, but a reckless and utterly sinful parody.

Man of Steel Gone Rogue stood just behind her, and Nesta tried to make her admiration subtle when muscle flexed in his forearm as he gripped the pole, a fare gap between her hand and his. She could hear a familiar melody buzzing through his earphones and it took her only a fraction of a second to realise what it was he was listening to.

The only benefits -where Nesta was concerned- of her relocation, were her proximity to her sisters, the chemist apprenticeship she’d originally been seduced by, and that she’d finally been able to see Hamilton.

She’d listened to the soundtrack on a whim one evening -living alone had many perks, one of which being she could cry in only a bralette and pyjama bottoms on her kitchen floor without interruption- and she’d become instantly obsessed. She’d listened to all two hours and twenty-two minutes of it from start to finish, acquiring a minor injury whilst listening to ‘My Shot’ and running out of tissues by the time “Quiet Uptown” came through every speaker in her flat. For months now her driving playlist had consisted solely of the original soundtrack shuffled amongst the mix tape tracks.

There was no doubt in Nesta’s mind that he was listening to ‘Right Hand Man’ and she strained to hear the lyrics.

_“…we’re abandoning Kipps Bay,_

_And boom! There’s another ship and,_

_Boom! We just lost Southern Tip and,_

_We gotta run to Harlem quick,_

_We Can’t afford another slip…”_

Nesta almost groaned, it was just so _fucking good_. She stepped back silently, the movement casual enough and the quality of sound improved slightly. Then, as though whatever god up there that wasn’t sending her straight to hell heard her prayers, Handsome Stranger turned up the volume!

 

 

* * *

 

 

Nesta needed a cold shower, and preferably the guy behind her would also be in said shower. The carriage was muggy with mid-August heat and the only thing sparing her from the undoubtedly overpowering scent of sweat from the other passengers was Handsome Stranger’s after shave. He smelt like laundry detergent and lazy Sunday morning sex.

“ _I may not live to see our glory…”_

Nesta made a noise of disapproval, silently willing him to change song. It wasn’t that she didn’t like ‘The Story of Tonight’ but she always got the damn thing stuck in her head and had become rather bitter toward the short and repetitive melody.

He laughed under his breath and Nesta stilled. If he’d noticed her eavesdropping then he’d given no indication prior to this. She felt him shift behind her and saw him pull his phone out of his jeans in her peripheral vision. Effortlessly he slipped his phone into her palm.

Nesta brought the phone to her eyeline, earphones still in and plugged into the device he was tugged closer. He’d unlocked it already and Nesta’s thumb hesitated over the double-arrow button for a second.

Screw it, she pressed down on the home button and swiped across the grimy screen until she found the phone icon. With deliberate and controlled movements of her finger she created a new contact under the name _Call Me_ and added her mobile number into the relevant space. Pressing done, Nesta swiped up and skipped to the next track.

Seamlessly, she rocked back on her heeled boots and slipped the phone back into his front pocket. The train slammed into a swaying holt. Nesta turned lazily, raising an eyebrow and running a leisurely and indulgent gaze up and down his form before heading toward the open door.

“You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied” Nesta spun, and he winked.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, you forget yourself” She assured him, and slipped through the open door. Stepping onto the platform with an annoying smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Weaving her way through the crowds toward the exit her defiance wavered and she grinned almost abashedly, thick fringe falling over her eyes as she bobbed her head down and bit her bottom lip in an effort to contain her silly grin.

Mid-way up the stairs her phone buzzed through the fabric of her bag;

_History’s not the only thing with its eyes on you._

__\- Cassian_ _


End file.
